


you fell through the cracks in my hands

by inkwelled



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Developing Friendships, F/F, Lack of Communication, Loss of Trust, Minor Character Death, Moving On, Mutual Pining, Post-Season/Series 01, Requited Unrequited Love, Shadow Weaver's A+ Parenting, Sharing a Bed, Sleep Deprivation, mention of injury, mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 11:06:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16722174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwelled/pseuds/inkwelled
Summary: Adora looks down at the jacket in her hands, the same jacket Catra liked to pretend she didn't knead into on nights when Shadow Weaver dismissed her with cruel words and she curled up on the end of her bunk before Adora would scoot downwards to wrap her arms around her best friend.Best friend, lover, or enemy?Adora doesn't know anymore.





	you fell through the cracks in my hands

**Author's Note:**

> so. here we are.
> 
> i binged the entire show in a single afternoon and even though it's been little more than a week i'm craving more. catra became my favorite a minute into the first episode and i'm having so much fun picking apart her motivations and character and reasoning to why she does what she does.
> 
> what really sold it for me, however, was these two disaster lesbians. catradora absolutely KILLED me and i've watched every instagram edit and liked every tumblr fanart. heck, i already made a [side twitter](https://twitter.com/catradvoras) because i have no self control!
> 
> anyways. i wrote this in two sittings and something feels,, ,Off,, , ,,but i think it's because i'm not quite sure how to write these two yet. but you will be seeing more of them in the future, so stick around!
> 
> weird flex i know but the title is from [baby by clean bandit](https://genius.com/Clean-bandit-baby-lyrics)
> 
> enjoy!

"So, who was that today? On the battlefield?"

Adora sighs heavily, ignoring the sting of Glimmer's cold fingers against the claw marks across her back. There's dirt under her fingernails, water dripping from the ends of her hair and she wishes she was back at the Horde, if only to curl underneath thin blankets on a hard mattress.

At least she would have the comfort of someone being there when she woke.

"Catra," she says quietly, "and she wasn't always like this. But I left her and wasn't there when she really needed me to. I broke our promise."

"Promise?"

"When we were kids," Adora says, focused solely on her hands and the bright red fabric clenched between them, "we promised we would look out for each other, no matter what, because that's how we would stay safe. It's how we made it through everything - Shadow Weaver's training, the long nights we went to bed with empty stomachs, when the other recruits in our unit made fun of her."

She lifts her fists suddenly, slamming them down onto her thighs. Glimmer yelps.

 _"We promised!"_ she all but sobs, desperately trying to tamper down the choking sensation that's been heavy in her throat since Catra disappeared in the last wave of magic.

"We promised," she whispers suddenly, all the fight draining out of her in a second and sheer exhaustion crashing down on her. instead "And I left her, broke the promise for what - for _this?"_

Adora laughs hollowly as Glimmer's hand softly touches her shoulder. "Was it worth it?"

_"What?"_

Adora turns. Glimmer is looking at her in a way she hasn't seen since they fought over the sword and the princess still called her _a Horde soldier._

"Was it worth it," she says again, slower, gesturing to the room around them, "this? Was it worth leaving the one person I knew - who cared for me and who I cared for back?"

"Yes!"

"Yes," the princess says again, firmer, not backing down when pinned with Adora's glare. "Yes, it was. Look at what you did today, Adora! You defended Bright Moon, repaired all the damage, figured out how to wield the sword! You even reunited the Princesses!"

Then she's crouching in front of Adora.

"This war is bigger than all of us," she says, quietly, and something in her voice makes the legendary She-Ra pause, "no matter how we feel."

Guilt crashes in them, as Adora remembers she's not the only one who's lost people in this war. The portrait in the hall, the empty chair next to Angella during war meetings, the coloring of Glimmer's skin that isn't from her mother.

"I'm sorry -"

Glimmer shakes her head. "No," she says, waving off the apology on Adora's lips, "don't apologize. I get it."

Then she sighs, and the purely _defeated_  look in the princess' eyes looks so wrong that Adora reaches for her hand. Glimmer smiles at her, sitting heavily down next to her on the chaise and squeezing her fingers back.

"When my father died in the first wave of Horde attacks, all I wanted was revenge. So I snuck out, determined to find every last soldier and make them pay for my pain," Glimmer explains, tangling her fingers with Adora's and smiling weakly - although the expression doesn't reach her eyes.

"I don't know how far I wandered into the Whispering Woods until I found it. A Horde campout, small but not that well hidden. I could tell it had been thrown together, they didn't even have weapons besides their staffs and blasters. I hesitated for a second, and that's when I heard it."

Adora smoothes her thumb over Glimmer's hand, remembering how it always made Catra purr contently when she did it.

It's a silent pledge of assurance, of her listening, and the princess' eyes turn watery.

"They were crying."

She stares at Glimmer as the fingers on her other end curl into a limp fist. "They were crying!" she explodes, "they had attacked our home, run off into the woods to lure us into a trap, killed my father and his army, and had the _audacity_ to mourn!"

All the fire saps from her and she leans against Adora's thin shoulders. "I sat, crouched in the bushes, frozen. There were two soldiers that I could tell, and they just cried in their tent, mourning their third comrade who had been lost in the fight."

"They lost people," she whispers, "just like we had. And that's when I decided that the war was worth it, whatever the cost. I didn't like it, I returned home to a mother who could barely look me in the eye, much less run a kingdom those first few days, but I saw the toll it took on everyone. Even our enemy."

With that, they both fall silent. Adora looks down at the jacket in her hands, the same jacket Catra liked to pretend she didn't knead on nights when Shadow Weaver dismissed her with words and she curled up on the end of her bunk before Adora would scoot downwards to wrap her arms around her best friend.

_Best friend, lover, or enemy?_

Adora doesn't know anymore.

"You said you loved her?"

She blinks away tears, looks down to see Glimmer tuck her hands beneath her thighs and look back up at her.

Something tugs at her heart and Adora nods slowly.

"You could say that. Love, loved, cared for - _I don't know._ We were something, something we never talked about because we knew how our superiors would react. But she was the only one I could ever talk to about anything and everything, and more often than not we shared a bunk before she would sneak back into hers before morning roll call."

"I don't know much about love," Glimmer says later, touching her hand while she rises, "but that sounds like it to me."

"I thought you said the war was bigger than any of us," Adora says desperately, "that we had to put ourselves aside and look at the bigger picture."

"I did. But I didn't say the people closest to us didn't matter."

Then Glimmer's gone. Adora sits on the chaise for how long she doesn't know, watching the suspiciously blue water of the fountain bubble over the rim and splash down, and tries to time deep breaths with the motion.

It doesn't work - but she isn't surprised.

Adora leaves her jacket on the seat and flees the room.

Her room is too big, too open, too washed out by sunlight. The bed is still too hard, too cold, too raised and when she turns over in the middle of the night, chalk isn't smeared on the side of the bunk.

_"You left me!" Catra cries in her dreams, standing over her with a stun gun as tears slip down her cheeks. "So just come home, please!"_

_Adora never does, and Catra never says_ i love you _back._

The scene always looks familiar, and the sword of She-Ra is heavy in her hand when she roams the hallway. Every corridor looks the same except the arching doors of the ballroom.

Adora slips inside and spends the rest of the night memorizing the weight of the weapon in her hand and the sound as it slashes through her hand. The darkness blocked out by curtains, she tries to imagine opponents, scenarios, and wishes for her punching bag.

Sweat drips down her forehead, she leaves. Approximately five minutes before Glimmer knocks on her door to escort her to breakfast, she'll return to her room and shower for the allotted two minutes she's used to from the Horde.

The jacket will fit like a second skin, and Glimmer will offer for the thousandth time to replace her clothing, something that helps her blend in a little better and offers better resistance against the wind of Bright Moon.

Just like all the times before, Adora will refuse.

Sometimes, if she focuses hard enough, she can still smell Catra on her blanket; smoky, harsh, all sharp edges. She's already found all the stray hairs on the lining from the last time the warrior stole it as a prank, and keeps them behind a loose tile edging the fountain.

Adora stares down into her water glass at breakfast. She remembers the look in Catra's eyes as she pointed the sword at them, turned the handle around, offered her their last chance of getting out.

_I didn't miss you, she had said in the temple before they got separated and Adora danged, screaming, fingertips sweaty and slipping -_

Catra smirks back at her from the reflection of her plate and she slips away from the table as Glimmer leans over to Bow to whisper a joke.

She misses that.

Glimmer and Bow are doing their best, she knows that. But she's a Horde soldier at heart, and they know nothing of the atrocities that she's committed, and she hopes they never found out.

She's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Adora collapses on her bed, frowning when something pokes into her side. She rolls and stares down at the soft blue fabric and the little yellow note. Unfolding it, Adora stares down at the scrawled words.

_Sleepover tonight? I know you haven't slept these past few days because the guards purposefully let you think you're sneaky. Bow and I want to help any way we can. So here's your first present from us!_

_P.S: (Bow says it's a birthday present since apparently birthdays aren't a thing at the Horde - which is utterly ridiculous and I will fistfight them myself.)_

She stares down at the signature.

_Your friends,_

_Bow & Glimmer_

Friends?

She realizes she doesn't know much about her so-called friends, or anything a friend would know. There's no inside jokes, she's never met Bow's dads, doesn't know Glimmer's favorite place to hang out when there isn't a war raging for their freedom.

Adora hesitantly picks up the folded fabric.

It reminds her of Glimmer's one-shoulder cape she had wrapped around Adora's shoulders when she had first been captured. But unlike that, the color is what makes Adora blink back tears.

It's red.

But not just any kind of red. A red that reminds her of Catra's top, of her mane, of the chalk smeared on the side of her bunk and the freckles on Catra's face that lit up when she laughed. It reminds her of her Horde jacket, the one she still refuses to take off, and Adora doesn't breathe when she reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out the pin.

Her Force Commander pin.

It's long since been replaced with half a wing, a symbol of the Rebellion on her jacket instead. Adora stares down at the jagged edge of the symbol and then at the clasp on the new cover-up in her hand.

She smiles.

 

 

 

An hour later, there's a knock on the door.

"Adora?"

"Come in!"

Bow and Glimmer look at each other before Glimmer shrugs, pushing open the door to Adora's room. Both have their bedrolls underneath their arms and are already dressed in their nightclothes.

Glimmer stops dead, ignoring Bow's yelp when he runs straight into her back.

"Glimmer, wha-"

Bow's voice dies out and they both stare.

Adora waves back sheepishly. "Hey, guys."

"Adora," Glimmer says, taking a few steps forward, gaze sweeping her eyes around the room before landing back on the girl in question, "what's going on?"

"I got your note," Adora says, shifting on her feet, "and I decided my only change shouldn't be to my clothes. I took your advice - in more ways than one - and decided I had to look at the bigger picture."

Glimmer blinks.

"What?"

Adora chuckles nervously, tucking a piece of her hair behind her head. "I'm from the Horde. For eighteen years of my life they were my home, but now I'm here, and I figured out forgetting everything from them wasn't working. I have to embrace and acknowledge everything I've done, everything they've taught me."

She ducks her head.

"And...I haven't been sleeping. So I thought I would arrange my quarters to reflect an atmosphere I would feel more comfortable in."

Behind her, Bow makes a thoughtful noise and Adora blushes. "I hope I won't get in trouble-"

"No!" Glimmer says, a smile spreading across her face as she strides across the room and takes her friend's hands. "I think it's good that you're reconciling everything. I know you haven't been sleeping, and if this helps you, I know we both are glad for it."

"This is your room anyways," Bow comments, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure Angella won't mind. As long as you don't get rid of the fountain, I'm sure Glimmer doesn't care either!"

When Adora giggles, both of her friends smile as the tension leaks from her shoulders. Glimmer shoves playfully at Bow and just like that, Adora sleeps through the night.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact Bow's head is pillowed on her right shoulder and Glimmer's curled up under her arm. They fall asleep first, and Adora stares up at the ceiling for a few minutes before surrendering to the heavy pull of her eyelids.

She dreams of Catra, one of the days they didn't have training and spent the day joking and running around. She dreams of them on the roof, kicking out their heels and playing stupid games spotting things in the distance. She dreams of tails wrapped around wrists, Catra's freckles, the sharp pain of the claws that once cradled her cheek against her back.

Adora startles awake with the sunlight, and when she showers the next morning before breakfast, both Glimmer and Bow include her in their jokes at the table.

Slowly, she adapts.

 

 

 

Force Commanders, as it seems, get separate quarters.

Catra doesn't use them.

The first night she gets her new quarters, she lays awake before retreating to the training room and pounding out her anger and loss and sorrow on the punching bag. She doesn't wrap her hands, doesn't want to rifle through Adora's locker to find the bandages and think about when she kissed her hand the last time she wore them.

She sleeps in her old bunk.

Or, Adora's.

Before dusk though, before anyone else from the unit wakes, she retreats. Scorpia's quarters are right next door and if the turned princess hears her muffled sobs that first night through the walls when Catra tore apart Adora's bunk, she doesn't say anything.

"Hey, Catra, you doing okay?"

She grunts, ignoring Scorpia to focus on the screen until a warm hand envelops her shoulder. "I'm fine," she says, shrugging off the concern until the hand spins her around.

Scorpia hand underneath her chin, tilting up her head to get a better look reminds her of Shadow Weaver, of Adora and she yanks away with a scowl.

"You don't look fine," Scorpia comments and Catra rolls her eyes.

"Good observation."

Entrapta rolls by her, goggles perched high on her head. She looks too awake for this early in the morning and Catra reminds herself to ask the princess what her secret is. "It is a fine observation. You haven't been sleeping, have you Catra?"

Her scowl deepens. "I'm fine," she grits out, stalking to the other side of the room to escape both Scorpia and Entrapta's curious and calculating gazes. "I'll be better once we get this done."

Both drop it after that, but Catra isn't as dumb to miss their worried looks to each other when they think she isn't looking.

Catra deals.

And maybe her dealing is bruised knuckles and purple skin underneath her eyes. She doesn't touch her new quarters anymore, any sleep she does get on the mats of the training room or on her old bunk in the common rooms.

"Is it because of Adora?"

Catra drops the tool she was holding. "What?" she growls, spinning around, and Scorpia doesn't flinch as she crosses her arms.

"Are you acting this way because of Adora?"

Catra all but hisses, canines biting into her lip. "It's none of your business, that's what it is."

"That's stupid," Scorpia says, and Entrapta nods, pigtails moving with her in agreement. "We're your friends, and friends help and tell each other when things are bothering them. You've been distracted, and the night shift hasn't seen you in your quarters in a week."

_Friends._

"I'm fine," she snarls, but even to her, it sounds weak. Her shoulders sag and she turns back to her screen. "Let's get back to work."

Entrapta pops up in front of her. "We are merely concerned about your wellbeing," she says, that infuriating smile tugging at her lips, "and how your lack of rest will affect your work ethic in the future."

"Don't be," she shrugs, "because I'm _fine."_

Entrapta leaves her alone after that, and Catra doesn't notice her eyes slipping closed as her body pitches forward in the middle of their conversation and Scorpia's panicked _whoa whoa whoa!_

She wakes up warm. There's a comforting weight pulled over her and Catra blinks awake to find Scorpia's arms wrapped around her.

"What are you doing?"

It's not angry, or bitter, or mean. Catra looks up at her friend, who shrugs before smiling. "You fell asleep during our conversation, and Entrapta said you might be tired because you no longer have someone to sleep beside if the rumors about Adora and you were true. So I gave her a break to go bother the guards and stayed here."

Catra blinks again, and Scorpia's smile stretches further, into something giddy and almost child-like. "Also, you purr! It was so cute-"

She shoves away, the blanket tangled in her legs. "I do not! You were - you were imagining it, I do _not_ purr, lies -"

Scorpia chuckles when she falls to the floor, swiping at the fabric, hissing.

"Purring aside, do you feel better?"

Catra looks up at her, leaning against the wall with a smile and blinks away sudden tears. "Yeah," she says softly, "I do. Thank you."

Then she looks away to finish extracting herself from the blanket.

"If you're having trouble sleeping, you're always welcome in my quarters."

She squints at Scorpia. _"Really?"_

Scorpia nods, standing up and brushing dust off her pants. "Sure," she says breezily, "I understand not being able to sleep some nights and that's what friends do."

"Thank you," Catra sniffs, either in disdain or in sadness she doesn't know, "but I won't need it."

"You don't have to run."

Catra stops.

Her hand hovers above the scanner by the door and she turns, eyebrows furrowed.

"What?"

"You don't have to run," Scorpia says cooly, now leaning against the wall and shrugging when Catra shoots her a confused look. "I don't know what happened between you and Adora during those years but you can accept help, you know. We're not leaving you."

Catra flees the room before the traitor princess can see her tears.

Purple knuckles pound the punching bag and each breath is harsh. Every hit feels like a gunshot and every time she closes her eyes, Catra sees herself racking her claws down She-Ra's back, hears her pained scream.

She spends the night on the roof and crawls under Scorpia's arm ten minutes before roll call.

Entrapta comments the next day about how she's monitoring the bruises underneath her eyes and Catra rolls her eyes, shoves playfully at the princess, but doesn't say anything.

Adora's blanket is shredded, and Catra carefully folds it up.

On the other side of the room, she can feel Lonnie eyeing her suspiciously but ignores the other girl. Besides, she's only here to clean up the bunk for the next recruit, and neither one comments when she carries the ruined sheets out of the communal bunker.

Instead of throwing them out, Catra keeps them under her bunk.

She volunteers for the night shift. She spends the majority of nights prowling the hallways, cracking on down anyone found out of term and finds herself more often than not falling asleep while Entrapta prattles on about the gemstone.

Scorpia puts her foot down.

"You suck at dealing with this."

Catra snorts, lazily dragging a finger over Entrapta's tool stand. "What makes you think that?"

"For one," the pigtailed princess pipes up, goggles blocking Catra from seeing her curious eyes, "Lani says you took the sheets from Adora's bunk but never threw them out, and the guards on the night shift swear they see you out every night."

 _"Traitors,"_ she hisses before shrugging.

"We have more important things to deal with than me not being tired at night. Why do you guys care, anyways?"

Scorpia crosses her arms and glares at her. "You know why. We're your friends."

Catra chuckles humorlessly. "Oh yeah, because I've had a great rep when it comes to friends."

"We're not Adora, you know."

Her ears flatten and she whips around. "I know!" she howls, and Entrapta blinks at her. "I _know_ you aren't, okay! But I _wish_ you were, but you _can't_ be because she's _gone!_ She left, left the Horde and everything she ever knew and _me_ behind!"

"I wasn't enough," she whispers suddenly, shoulders sagging, "and you'll leave one day too. I wasn't enough for Adora to stay, even though she was enough for me to stay, and I have to deal with that."

Entrapta pulls her into a hug first. She struggles for a second before sagging into the embrace, and Scorpia's arm wrap around her from the other side.

"We're not going anywhere," Entrapta whispers, and Catra feels Scorpia nod from behind her. "Remember, they left me behind too."

"You don't need them," Scorpia rumbles. "None of us do. We won't leave, Catra."

It feels like defeat when she doesn't fight them. Catra sinks into the warmth, tries not to think of Adora's smile, as blinding as the sun and as bright as her golden hair, and lets her eyes shut.

For once, she isn't in Adora's shadow.

_For once, she isn't cold._

Slowly, she adapts.

 

 

 

Miles away from each other, both Adora and Catra stare at the sky.

In Bright Moon, the stars would be clearly visible without the smog that lies over the entirety of the Fight Zone if they had any. Adora sighs.

Catra stares at the glow in the distance and sucks in the cold night air. It stings when she gulps it down but it clears her head, and her claws scrape against the roof.

It's been a month since she clutched at her arm, leaned against Scorpia, and watched as Bright Moon and Adora's concerned, desperate gaze grew tinier and tinier.

Adora dreams of Catra's nose scrunching up when she laughs, the way her eyes soften when she smirks and whispers _hey, Adora._

Catra dreams of Adora's determined look, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, her dimples when she made remarks about Shadow Weaver under her breath.

They adjust, slowly and painfully, and time marches on.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell with me about these two disaster lesbians at [my twitter](https://twitter.com/qvillsmora) and [tumblr](http://nymphrea.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ( note ; to anyone reading this who cares, the epilogue for periphrasis will be up next week! )


End file.
